


Observer

by persephone_il (the_ragnarok), the_ragnarok



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-03-02
Updated: 2002-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:42:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok/pseuds/persephone_il, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok/pseuds/the_ragnarok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair's graduation leaves him feeling like shit. Jim talks to him. Warm Fuzzies follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Observer

**Author's Note:**

> ...In my defense, I wrote this when I was 16 and hated myself. Sometimes, I read this kind of thing just for the schadenfreude.

"Hey," Jim called as he walked inside the loft.

No answer. Funny. He knew Sandburg was here - heard his heartbeat and breath all the way down from the street.

He walked into the living room, and yes, there was Sandurg on the couch, present and awake, staring at the blank TV screen. "Chief?" he said, hesitantly.

Sandburg turned to look at him, and the look in the kid's eyes was frighteningly calm and empty. Jim cursed himself for talking to him about self control - he wasn't supposed to be hiding himself from Jim, damn it.

"Yes, Jim?" No trace of emotion in his voice. Fuck.

"Are you alright?" A bit tentative, but then Jim really had no idea what kind of dangerous ground he might be treading in.

"Fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Jim raked his mind for a reason. "I don't know. The academy--" Jim's heart sank as he realized what he was saying. "Shit. The academy. You graduated today, didn't you?"

Blair nodded once, raising level eyes to look into Jim's again.

Jim sat on the couch with a sigh. "Shit. I can't believe I forgot -- I mean, I know you didn't want a celebration or anything, but still -- shit." He looked at Blair ruefully. "I'm an asshole, huh?"

To his surprise, Blair just shrugged. It could have been a stoic routine - the goddamned stoic routine he spent months teaching Sandburg to show, damn him - but Jim suspected things ran deeper than that. Either that, or Blair was even a better actor than Jim thought.

Blair seemed to notice the line of Jim's thoughts, and attempted a weak grin. "It's not that - not really." Blair took a deep breath and let it out again, and Jim wasn't so out of touch with the kid that he couldn't recognize his calming routine.

At last, Blair spoke again. "It's stupid, you know? It's just--" He shrugged helplessly, and the gesture made Jim's fists clench. It seemed wrong that Blair should be out of words, when words were his strongest weapon. It made him seem too vulnerable. "The thing is, I always get that way in times like this. You know - when it's more than just a formality, when it actually has meaning. And this graduation thing - it's got 'rite of passage' written all over it."

"Get what way, Chief?" Jim asked, as gently as he could.

"Like--" Blair moved his hands in a frustrated gesture that could have meant anything. "Like an outsider, you know? All the other cadets had their families there, and they were all kissing and hugging and thumping each other's backs--"

"Fuck." Jim leaned his head against the couch pillows. "I knew I should have come."

"No." Blair was looking at him soberly. "I'm glad you didn't. Don't take it the wrong way, but it would've only made it worse."

Jim opened his eyes and watched him wearily. "Worse how?"

Blair started fidgeting with the seam of his pants. "I don't know. Worse."

Jim didn't let go. "Why?"

This time, when Blair looked up to him, his eyes were darting. Seeking an escape. He forced out a nervous laugh. "You don't get it, Jim, and I can't explain this."

"Try."

The laugh came again, brittle slightly too high. "Try? Alright. I'll _try_." He fixed Jim with a look, a wavering smile on his lips. "I'm an observer, right? So I observe. And even if you were there, and some part of me would have felt the companionship and belonging and all that _bullshit_ ," Blair continued, his tone rising at the last word, "there would still had been a part that would've only seen a bunch of primates getting drunk on their own testosterone, and being one of them would've only been worse.

"I don't like that part of me much, but it's there, and if you'd've come along tonight that part would've been screaming to the sky it's wrong. Trust me, man, you don't wanna know that part."

Jim was growing more and more concerned as Sandburg talked on. The kid's hands were shaking badly as he finished the last sentence, and without thought, Jim put his own hand on them, trying to steady and comfort. Blair pulled his hands as if they were bitten, but Jim grabbed his wrist with no intention of letting go.

"Look, Sandburg, I've seen pretty much the worse parts of you up to date. This observer personality can't be as bad as you make it out."

But the flashing, insane smile would not go away. "You know, that part hates it when you touch me."

Jim held on. "Why?"

The smile disappeared. Instead, Blair's normally handsome face contorted into an ugly expression. "Because you're a fucking prick tease, that's why."

Appearantly getting some twisted satisfaction out of Jim's shock, Blair went on. "Did you even realize you were doing it? You can smell my arousal, I know you can. At the beggining, I thought it was just male bonding shit. But you don't touch anybody else like that, do you? Then, I thought you were coming on to me - imagine my surprise when you turned out to be straight."

Blair laughed again, a short, bark-like sound. "My most recent theory is that this is some kind of Sentinel thing - get your Guide so turned on by you he can't leave. And, you know, I was okay with that. You've got enough abandonment issues to fill out a goddamned book - I should know, I practically _wrote_ it. No fucking wonder you were using all means possible to get me to stay." He laughed again, but the sound was strangely close to a sob. "I'll stay, man. But now, now this part is screaming at me that you're a jerk and I'm an even bigger jerk for sticking around with you so please, just let me go before I do something we both regret."

Blair fell back into the couch and Jim, stunned, let his wrists slip. When Blair looked up to him again, his eyes were tired and sad. "Look, Jim, can we just go to sleep and forget this whole conversation ever happened? I'm feeling like shit and you're probably feeling even worse, so let's end this thing before it becomes any weirder." He rose, and started towards his room.

"No." Jim wasn't sure which of them was more surprised at the sound of his voice. Blair turned back to look at him, wary. "Jim..."

"Come here." Jim's throat felt strangely tight. Maybe he caught that flu that was going around lately.

Reluctantly, Blair stepped back to the couch. He sat down wearily. "Yeah?"

He took Blair's wrist in his hands again, this time for comfort rather than restraint. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't come. I wanted to. So did the guys in Major Crimes, except that I told them you didn't want them to."

"I didn't."

"What, because of this obsever personality shit? Don't be an idiot. I've seen you drink with the guys, Chief, and if that isn't a bonding ritual I don't know what the fuck is. You were fine."

Blair shook his head. "It's not the same. You don't understand."

Jim's hand tightened. "Don't understand what, Sandburg? What it's like to be an outsider? A freak? Like hell I don't."

Blair retreated immediately. "I didn't mean that."

Jim looked up into Blair's eyes. Very slowly, very deliberately, he said, "And if you think I don't know what it's like living with a prick tease, you're wrong again."

Blair opened his mouth, then closed it. His eyes were huge.

"You smell like pheromones every waking moment. You think I started the horndog jokes because of your dating record?"

Blair seemed to recover his voice. "Yeah."

Jim's mouth felt suspiciously like smiling. Jim stomped on that urge. "Well, that too. How the hell was I supposed to know you were interested in me when a fucking _tree_ can get you hot?"

Blair flushed. "I, uh, have some fond memories of what happened near that tree."

Jim made a face. "Too much information here, Junior." He rubbed Blair's wrist. "Look, all I'm saying is, if you wanted to--" he shrugged awkwardly, "you know, all you ever had to do was ask."

Blair's eyes turned very, very dark. He licked his lips. "Well," he said, voice raspy, "I'm asking."

Suddenly, there wasn't any distance at all between them, and Jim's mouth was on Blair's, and Blair felt hot and aroused and alive beneath him as Jim pinned him down on the couch. Blair's body was hard and soft and real under him, and his hair smelled like rosemary and chamomile.

He slid his hands under Blair's shirt, wondering if this was the beggining of a flannel fetish. It felt soft and warm and smelled good, a lot like Blair's skin, a lot like Blair himself.

After an eternity of bliss, he remembered he needed to breathe. He let go of Blair's mouth.

"Oh man," Blair gasped. "Oh man."

With a voice that Jim wasn't sure at all was his own, he said, "My bed's bigger, Chief. How about it?"

Blair laughed a bit, breathless. "Your bed? Yeah. That's good."

He never did remember how they managed the stairs without falling, only being completely tangled in Blair's arms and hair and presence.

Eventually, they made it to Jim's bed, and Blair jumped on it, bouncing slightly. Jim came after him, and Blair's chest heaved with repressed laughter under him.

After a while, there wasn't any laughter or words, just soft exclamations, the noises of pleasure Blair made under him as Jim tried his best to show Blair.

To show Blair that, yes, he wasn't like other people. That he was beautiful and smart and shining through the dull gray of the world like a fucking beacon, for caring about people who, for the most part, didn't give a shit and weren't given a shit.

But Jim did, Jim cared, but he'd still let Blair sit all alone between kids who were surrounded by family and friends. He'd let Blair retreat into a dark, cold place where he was hardly human anymore - Jim knew that place, had practically lived there before Blair came along and dragged him out by what little hair he had.

"I know you," he rasped into Blair's ear, licking it gently.

"You do, oh man, you do," Blair sobbed beneath him.

"You're not an observer. You're the kid who looked from the side because the other kids threw him out."

Under him, Blair's body went still. Jim slipped a hand into those wonderful curls, touching the warm skin that coated such a briliant mind. "And you know what, Chief? They were damned idiots, those kids."

Blair laughed quietly, not quite pleasantly. "So everyone keeps telling me."

And Jim gave up on words, because Blair had all of them, all the words in the world, and if he couldn't convince himself, what chance did Jim have?

Instead, he let his hands skim reverently over soft, hair covered skin, memorising the smallest details. Taking Blair's clothes off, to show that wonderful warmth that seemed to glow in the darkness of Jim's bedroom. Maybe, if he were lucky, some of that warmth would stay here forever, warming him in the long, cold nights.

After a while, the quiet tones of ecstacy settled in Blair's voice, and the both of them were naked now, the glide of skin against skin threatening to drive Jim mad. He kissed Blair's hands, such strong hands, and pushed them firmly down to the mattress. Blair could touch him later, if he wanted; now, it was Jim's turn.

He put his mouth on Blair's chest, licking his nipples, taking in the heated taste of flesh, the crinckled texture of the skin as it hardened under his tongue. He went on, down Blair's body, until he reached the place where Blair wanted him the most.

Blair's cock was hard in his mouth, and the amazing fragility of Blair's situation caught Jim in the gut, unprepared. Blair had always had Jim's life in his hands, under his reign, from the moment they first met. How could he bear such responsibility and not crack?

But Jim didn't crack, and he knew with absolute surety that he never will, not as long as Blair needed him for strength and comfort. It wasn't difficult at all, now - he remained still as Blair went in and out of his mouth, forcefully, driven out of control. That was good; maybe a little of the horrible, terrible bitterness hidden in Blair would burn away from the pleasure Jim could give him.

Some time later, Blair arched and came in Jim's waiting mouth, crying out as he did. After that, he flopped down on the bed, a soft smile of satiation on his face.

Jim crawled to Blair's face, to kiss that beautiful mouth once again, and let his cock bump into Blair's thigh, soft warm skin over solid bone. He filled himself with scent and taste, with the impossibly beautiful warmth of touch, and climax washed over him languidly, with a tiny whimper.

Blair's hand, stroking his head, led Jim back to his body afterwards. "You didn't have to do that, you know," Blair whispered into his ear. "I would've reciprocated if you'd've given me a second to recover." But there wasn't any more bitterness in Blair's voice, just tired amusement, so Jim just told him, "Maybe next time," and slid into a comfortable sleep.

* * *


End file.
